MeliGoesRogue

So apologies that I delayed a day in posting Saturday’s shenanigans. I got stuck in a pub with a red headed gentleman that said I was the finest girl in all the county. So because of his compliments your up to date information has had quite the delay. I intend to rectify that today so as not to cut the trip and its posts short. So even though it’s today I’m going to tell you about yesterday.
Sunday Sept 6,2015. County Kerry.
I unwillingly departed Gallan Mor on Sunday knowing that the ring of Kerry was summoning me to round it’s curves and smell it’s lake airs. Leaving seemed so hard- almost as if I was leaving behind a home. My hostess told me the town would remember and when I returned it would be as if a family member had not come back to visit but rather returned home. It is not untrue that west cork is a land unto itself. Now being in my fourth county I feel equipped to say it might just be my favorite. As I drove away and saw its limelights in my rear view I knew I would return. That certainty propelled me forward to Kerry and more specifically to the jaunting cars of Killarney.

My first stop in Kerry was in a very very small town- so small that there was only one home and one farm. Might be one of the things I love most about Ireland, you settle where you please where the land calls.
Side note on the road I saw a sign that said “God has no country” at first I thought to be offended but then as the words settled

and the roads continued to wind I realized it might be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard said about him. See here’s the thing one of the things I noticed here is there are no boundaries. That’s not to say the country is not split up into its towns and counties and cities but when your driving the land you’d never know it. It’s not that God doesn’t have a place he belongs or calls home it’s that it is all his and resides everywhere. There is a pride in that sentiment here, they share land and they share God and both are fully theirs.
My Godfather is a songwriter and singer, I wish I saw him more and yet I know him thru the words he has written, feeling at times that they are more the words that have been written by the salt in my tears. One of his songs (all are in Spanish so I’ll be translating) says “from the sky my land looks like a quilt” those words followed me when I took the journey thru that land he spoke of, I never thought it would cross the ocean and follow me to this land that isn’t my home but feels like perhaps it should be. As I drive thru the hills of Kerry and all the counties to be sure there are no fences there are only trees lining the paths telling the sheep where to roam and the cows where to graze. And as you looks from a distance you find the quilted pattern. They know the land is not theirs they have simply been charged with caring for its inhabitants and from them finding sustenance and life.
The world is not Miami. I knew that but I had never seen it. I’ve been privileged to have seen other countries and states in my life and yet they all seem to fall short of the true life I have found in the mountains and valleys that make up the Irish landscape.
I wonder if this affinity with Ireland was cleverly placed there by my God. Perhaps the man whose name has escaped me and whose presence has yet to befall me is in or from this land. Perhaps the way I find him is by loving his home as much as i already do. Unwillingly I will concur that it is possible he is not from here at all but if he isn’t he will certainly know it.

So back to Kerry. I managed a few stops along the way. Obligatory tourists spots but literally worth every moment I spent there. Each view increased in spectacularlity (just made a new word). I finally arrived to my hotel which was right on the water. The room which was exquisite featured a jacuzzi so I ….took a really long bath (no pictures….that I can post). So the sun set and the lake darkened so laid down and awaited a new dawn.